“I’m socially awkward and I will pee on things when I’m mad or scared because I don’t have the guts to meet new people.”
Nope, not introducing a new blend of Australian wine just one of my cats who will, on occasion, pee on something when it suits her angry fancy.
Is it possible for a pet to be reincarnated into another pet? Or a deceased cat who passes on almost every aspect of its personality onto the new kitten(s)?
I’m thinking yes.
Take our old cat, Holmey (Boobs named her. Yes, her). She was a great pet. A fluffy, petite black cat with yellow eyes and who was very friendly, at least with Boobs and I. She liked playing fetch, she’d cuddle at the end of the bed nearly every night, and she’d sit on my lap. She never climbed on the counters, she never ate anything she wasn’t supposed to. But, she was a big chicken. When she was mad, she’d pee on something. Like the time Boobs’ dad left the basement door closed and we came home that night to find poop by the front door. Or when she peed in Boobs’ hockey bag, probably protesting how bad it smelled. Didn’t happen too often but it’s a super #@#$ to make sure you get rid of.
Honestly, we failed as first-time cat parents. She wasn’t socialized enough as a kitten – stuck in an apartment with Boobs and only ever having one visitor (me). She didn’t like newcomers and always made a wide berth around Soph. We miss her though and sometimes when Soph’s feeling overly emotional (usually at bedtime) she’ll say she misses Holmey.
About a year and a half before Homey left us, we brought Sally and Marie home. One fluffy and one sleek. Both black. Sally acts like Holmey in every way, minus the lap sitting and bed cuddling, but the other cat will do both. Sally will run upstairs when the door bell rings (check), she slinks away the same way Holmey did. She hides in the same spots she used to. She plays fetch (check). Check, check, check.
I had to get out of bed at 6:30am this morning because Soph came into our room with a message that Sally pooped on the guest bed. I’d had a crappy sleep anyway so I got up to clean up. Got rid of the poop only to find out she’d peed there too. More than once. All thanks to the workmen we’ve had in the basement over the last 4 days because she was too afraid to go down to use the litter box.
I told my friend that I was going to publicly shame Sally on FB but she sent me a funny link that does the job. Go on, Shameyourpet.
Check out this book on pet pee poetry and other stories by cats. It’s funny because it’s true: